Switching Sides
by It'salreadycreeping
Summary: An old Fire Nation woman finds two Water Tribe siblings, injured and afraid, on the shore. She takes them in, but living together might include more compromise than Sokka and Katara can cope with... AU.
1. One: Pain and Danger

**A/N: **I don't own Avatar: The Legend of Aang. Please don't sue me!

* * *

Switching Sides

Chapter One: Pain and Danger

Firstly, the girl tried to move, gasping at the sharp pain that shot right up her leg and through her body, jarring every one of her nerves. Everything hurt. Where was she?

The air was warmer than it should have been. It still smelt of salt, like she was used to, but there were other smells with it: Dirt, smoke and _danger_. _This is dangerous _jangled through her mind, and she couldn't think for the strength of it. The only things there were, in this tiny little world of hers, were _pain _and _danger_.

She could not open her eyes. Her head hurt too much. Something hot and sticky trickled down her forehead, but she didn't dare guess what it was.

Presently, she became aware that she was being rocked from side to side. It made her sick, once she noticed it, and it crunched her poor bruised ribs against each other, pain exploding in her chest. She had definitely broken something, she decided through the terrible pounding in her head.

There was something beside her, too. A heavy, soft lump that seemed to be moving differently from the motion of the world around her – in, out, in, out.

Breathing. It was a body.

And then, the girl realized it was her brother. How could she have forgotten him? Ignoring all the pain, she leaned up and opened her eyes – slowly, oh, it _hurt _– to gaze at his face. It was the same as she remembered it, save for a small, deep cut on his left temple, half healed-over now, blood trickling slowly to mat in his eyebrow.

Not wanting to think where he'd got that cut, not wanting to think where the pain from her leg and her head came from, the girl curled up on a ground that was cold and hard and convinced herself this was all a dream.

_Mother will come to find us. Mother will come and find us and clean us up and ma__ke us dinner and put us to bed, soon, and then everything will be alright._

_Nothing's changed. Nothing at all._

* * *

Ailin breathed in deeply, inhaling the fresh salty air of the port. If there was one good thing about working in the market, gutting fish all day for a living, it was the sea. After forty years of labouring by the port, Ailin had become used to it by now. It was like an old friend, a friend that never let her down. 

Today it was choppy, shouting against the port wall. Moonlight glanced off it sharply, turning parts milky and parts pitch, glassy black. It was beautiful – but Ailin had never been a great admirer of beauty. She carried on trudging home, trying not to think about the empty house that awaited her when she got back. Before she turned off the road past the sea, she took one last look at it – and saw a tiny, lone boat on the water, being tossed about roughly by the sea.

It could be one of her neighbours' boats – but something told her it was not.

For one thing, it was too small for that. For another, when the moonlight struck it _just so_, she could have sworn that the boat was not made of the wood that was customary for the Fire Nation, but something whiter, almost like bone.

She had to get a closer look.

Ailin climbed down the steps that led from the port wall to the beach, when the tide was low enough for there to be any beach. She wondered how that little boat had managed to get past Azulon's Gates – perhaps it was simply too small.

She stood on the lowest step she could without getting her feet wet. She was in luck – the boat was heading straight for her, carried by the vast waves that almost toppled it. When it was close enough, she took a fishing pole out of the pack on her back and guided the boat towards her. "Come on…"

But just then, a great wave roared towards her and the boat. Ailin, fearing only for her life, hurried backwards up the steps; the sea might be her friend, but it was a one-sided friendship for sure – the water would drag her under without a second's thought.

The wave swallowed up the odd little boat, and Ailin, cursing, turned to go home.

But then she noticed something. As the wave slapped against the steps, covering the one she had been on completely, it deposited something onto the stone. _Two _somethings. Two little bodies that spluttered and coughed and screamed –

Ailin raced down the steps faster than she should and bent over the two children. They gazed up at her with dizzy, tired eyes. A boy and a girl, badly hurt and bloodied, already slipping into unconsciousness.

She did not notice their blue clothes, their dark skin, their blue eyes and brown hair. All she knew was that two children were in danger, and these were children she could actually _help_. Quickly deciding the best way to go about lifting them, she slung the boy – who was older, maybe twelve or so, and heavier – over her shoulders, and picked up the girl – who barely weighed anything, and felt like a ghost – in her arms.

Praying nobody would see her, she carried them home.

* * *

**A/N: **The beginning of what will hopefully be a much longer story. It's completely AU, and is about two Water Tribe siblings (guess who!) who end up in the Fire Nation (you'll find out _how _in later chapters) and get taken in by _that_ lady –prods rudely-, who is an OC. 

Tell me what you think, please! See that grey button? _Press_. Loved it? Hated it? Want to hand it to Azula, annoy her, and run? Whatever you think, please do tell. I value your opinions hugely and would love to know – otherwise, I'll just continue doing completely the wrong things, and you'll end up hating my story.

Personally, I think that maybe this first chapter was a little… samey, to some other stuff you might have seen. It will become original. I am very determined for it not to be another one of those 'whatever, seen it all before…' types of fics.

Thank you very much for reading! Next chapter will be up shortly. Don't get run over by any buses or destroyed in any Fire Nation raids in the meantime, okay? ;)


	2. Two: Culture Shock

**A/N: **I don't own Avatar: The Legend of Aang. I own Ailin, though. She's mine.

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Switching Sides

Chapter Two: Culture Shock

When Katara next woke up, it was in a completely different place.

She was lying in a bed, a broad, comfortable bed with thick sheets that wrapped her in a blissfully warm cocoon. Her head had stopped hurting so much, the pain reduced to a mere dull throbbing she could easily ignore. One of her legs felt lighter than air, the other oddly heavy. When she opened her eyes, the light in the room was dim and red; an orange flame flickered somewhere just out of sight.

_Sokka! Is he here with me? _Half-convinced she was dreaming, Katara rolled over onto her side – ouch, her ribs still hurt – and searched the room with her gaze.

He was sleeping on the floor on a makeshift bed made out of red pillows and blankets, and he was breathing peacefully. His face was untroubled, but a white bandage stood out on his forehead against his dark skin, telling of the long journey he – and she – had been through.

But what had been before the journey? Katara couldn't remember, and that distressed her greatly. All she knew was that this wasn't home – that home was the Southern Water Tribe, in her little igloo with her mother and the smell of stewed sea prunes…

To her dismay, tears started dribbling down Katara's face. She tried to blink them away, but they came faster and faster – and the reality of not being home hit her hard. It was as though she had been physically struck by something large and heavy – her whole body jerked and curled in on itself.

_Mum. __Where is she?_

"Kids? Are you awake?" called a soft voice, and Katara's heart leapt with hope and pleasure. Tears drying, she sat up in bed as the door opened.

A small, female figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the lamplight behind her. "Kids?"

Katara did not think. "Mum!" She stood up and tried to stumble towards the woman, arms outstretched, tears of a different kind clouding her vision –

But her right leg collapsed from under her with a great burst of pain, just as she realized that the woman's face was nothing like her mother's. She hit the ground painfully and lay there, lacking the strength to get up, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing.

"It's alright, kid, I'm not going to hurt you!"

"I want my mum! I want her _now_!" Katara knew she was acting childishly, that girls of twelve years did not behave like this – but what did she care? She was lost, a small child in a big wide sea of unfamiliar things. "_Mum_…"

Ailin sighed and knelt down next to the small Water Tribe girl. "I know you want her, dear, but she isn't here." She stroked the girl's back in small rhythmic circles, like she had done with her own Taj when he had been a boy. "Now stop being silly and sit up. Does your leg feel better? Your head?"

After a while Katara felt slightly better. She sat up weakly, gazing at the strange woman with red, puffy eyes. "Where am I?"

"You're here, dear, and that's all that matters."

"_Where am I?_" Katara demanded, trying to stand up. Her leg prevented her from getting up – it hurt too much. She looked down at it, and realized for the first time that it was heavily bandaged. "What – what happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that." Ailin folded her hands in her lap. She had a small, wrinkled face that was both stern and kind at once.

"Why is my leg in a bandage? Why am I hurt?"

"I don't know, dear."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Ailin. I found you… outside, and you were hurt badly. I brought you to my home, and cleaned you up and bandaged you."

"Where's my mum? I need her." She clenched her fists.

"She's… far away, I think."

Tears threatened to overcome Katara again, but this time she swallowed them down, determination slivering her eyes. "I want to know where I am. I want to know why everything is red!"

"…Red?" Ailin glanced around at the small room, which had once belonged to Taj – red walls, deep brown wooden furnishings draped in red and black, and thought she understood. "You – you're in the Fire Nation, dear."

The effect was instantaneous. Katara, terrified and trembling, gave a wild shriek like an animal and crawled backwards, ignoring the pain in her leg – all that mattered was getting away from this woman, from this house, from this entire situation. She got to the doorway before black spots started to blot her vision and a curtain fell down over her eyes…

Dizzy and sick, she leant against the frame. Ailin walked slowly over to her, arms outstretched.

"Don't you come _near _me! Stay away!" Katara cowered backwards, her fingers tangling in her hair, her head bent, her eyes squeezed shut so that all she could see were the insides of her eyelids. At least that view hadn't changed.

But everything else had. And Katara felt so helpless.

"Hush, dear." A thought struck Ailin; what if the neighbours heard the screaming? What if they came to see what was wrong? For the last twelve years Ailin had lived alone, with hardly any visiting friends, let alone _family_. "What – what's your name?"

"I won't tell you!"

"Then I'll call you Rei."

"No! That's a Fire Nation name – don't you dare – don't you _dare _take my name away from me!" Right now, that was all Katara had left. Her name and her clothes were all that was left of her life in the South Pole. But – she glanced at her attire – she didn't even have her _clothes _anymore. She was wearing her thin undergarments, and a red robe that was not hers. Panicking, she grasped at her neck – but the necklace was still there, safe and sound. Phew.

"Tell me your name, then," replied Ailin pragmatically, "and I'll call you that instead."

"K-Katara."

"That's a pretty name," said Ailin, secretly thinking that it was too obviously Water Tribe, that she would have to change it when – _if _– the girl joined society. "Would you like something to eat?"

Katara wondered whether Ailin was crazy.

In truth, she _was _hungry, and she needed the toilet too – but if the old woman thought she was going to succumb to the Fire Nation for basic things like bread and water, she was mistaken. _I'm better than that. If I stay loyal, mum will come and take me home. Dad will hack this woman to pieces with his machete_, she thought, although she would never usually wish anyone dead, although her father would never do such a thing… _If I stay loyal, I won't be lost._

Without saying anything more, Katara crawled back to the bed and climbed up. She knew the old woman was itching to help her, but she didn't want – or need –any help from the Fire Nation.

Curling herself up against the wall, Katara closed her eyes – but she didn't allow herself to fall asleep. For all she knew, the Fire Nation woman might try to stab her…

* * *

**A/N: **Another chapter! I love writing this thing X3

Any questions/suggestions on how to improve? Was it too short? Too stark? Too fast? Too slow? More description? _Less _description? Was there too much _crying_? Please review and tell me!

Thanks for reading. Goodbye – but not for long, because the third chapter is nearly finished. Hey, enjoy it while it lasts. As the story wears on, and I find things that don't work and it needs serious planning, the updates will be practically nonexistent.


	3. Three: Opposition

**A/N: **I don't own Avatar, the Legend of Aang. I just love it to pieces.

* * *

Switching Sides

Chapter Three: Opposition

"Sokka? Sokka! Psst! _Sokka!_" Katara leaned over the side of her bed and called to her brother, trying to be quiet but also needing for him to be awake right this moment.

"Uh? Katara? Where… where are we?" Sokka's mind felt as though it was full of fog. He couldn't carry out a thought to the end – couldn't even think in words, just pictures. Flashes of blue and white and, oddly, _red_ splashed across the backs of his eyelids. When he opened his eyes, his sister's face was right above him, round and worried.

Katara shook her head at his question, biting her lip. Sokka noticed that her eyes were red and her hair was matted. Her cheeks looked hollower than he was used to.

"No, seriously Katara. Where are we?"

"I – we're in the Fire Nation," said Katara. She could barely choke out the words.

"_What?_" Sokka sat bolt upright immediately, his hand automatically grasping for his boomerang – but it wasn't there, and neither were his clothes. He was wearing his underwear and an old, red robe that smelt strangely musty, as though it had been worn once, but its owner had left and never returned.

Katara nodded gravely. "Somebody took us in," she said suddenly and distractedly. It was clear that there was something else on her mind.

"Who?"

"An old lady," said Katara quietly. "She told me her name, but I – I was thinking about other things – and – _Sokka _–"

"Calm down. Let's think about this logically. Here, come and sit next to me." He patted the pillow beside him. Mutely, Katara shook her head. "Why not?"

"You smell," Katara wrinkled her nose pointedly, "like fish."

Sokka looked offended, but then he laughed. "Okay. You can think about it logically from up there, and I'll think about it logically from down here. Maybe then we'll get somewhere. Firstly: How didwe get _here_?"

"… I don't know." Katara drew her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. A bandage stood out pale against her dark skin. "All I know is that this isn't home – and I woke up, before, and we were in a boat…"

"I think I remember a boat." If he tried very hard, Sokka could just about recall the stars shining bright above his head, the sloshing of water against a canoe paddle, the ache in his arms after rowing for hours – and his sister paddling beside him, her expression unreadable as shadows and light passed across it in turn. "But what happened before that? Why were we on a boat – and how did we get here?"

"The lady found us."

"But why'd she take us here? This is her house?"

"Yes."

"But _why_? She's Fire Nation. They aren't exactly renowned for their kindness."

Katara merely shrugged. She wasn't feeling very talkative. After an hour of trying to stop herself sleeping, she felt more like curling up and falling into nothingness. When she had been asleep, in the boat, she had had the faint feeling that there was something left undone in the waking world, and it had tugged at her mind and made her sleep fitful and her dreams unpleasant – but now she wished for that level of oblivion. The only reason she'd woken Sokka was so he could keep watch for a bit.

"Come on, Katara, you must know something." Sokka was getting impatient. "Tell me about the woman."

"She's old. And Fire Nation."

"You told me that already!"

Anger flared up in Katara's eyes. "That's all I _do _know! She's Fire Nation – and that's all I _want _to know! I don't care where we are, and I don't care how we got here, I just – I want to – to go _home_!" Katara's eyes stung – whether with anger or sadness she neither knew nor cared.

Sokka didn't bat an eyelid. "You lie down – no, _now, _Katara. I'm going to find this woman, and get this all sorted out, and then we're going to think of a way to get home. You understand?"

Grudgingly, Katara nodded. Sokka had a way of making things sound so perfectly simple and easy that it was impossible _not _to agree.

Then – with all the fight draining from her in a second, leaving her limbs loose, her expression slack – Katara whispered, "She is alright, isn't she? Mum?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't she be? We'll just have got lost on the sea, and maybe something happened – something that took us here and hurt your leg." But Sokka wasn't sure at all, and he knew Katara knew that, because she narrowed her eyes at the shake in his voice, and folded her arms.

"Don't go to the lady."

"Why not?"

"Why do _you _think?"

"I'm not scared of any old women, Fire Nation or not." Sokka hoped she would not bring up the subject of how Gran-gran's disapproval had terrified him when they were young.

"Well I _am_. I don't want you to leave me here alone." Katara's voice was stony, but her eyes were soft and pleading.

Sokka did not meet her gaze. _I don't know_ said that small movement. _I can't predict the future. I'm not as all-knowing as you want me to be. And I am _not _your mother_.

"Don't be a baby."

Sokka stood up – and immediately his head banged so hard it felt as though his skull was splitting. "_Ow_." He pressed a palm to his forehead; there was a rough bandage there that he hadn't noticed before.

Gingerly he unwound it and, to Katara's great disgust, felt the source of the hurt. A cut, long and deep, raked its way across his temple.

And with a clarity that terrified him and had him glancing around for the source of the sound, he remembered a scream, high and piercing, and it shattered his eardrums and made all his nerves give a great shaking jolt with the wrongness of it –

"Wow," said Katara, kneeling up on her bed, oddly transfixed by the sight of the brown dried blood in the dim lamplight. "It didn't look so deep before."

"It's nothing," lied Sokka. He drew the robe tight around him – there didn't seem to be a clasp of any kind, and how should he know how to wear Fire Nation clothes anyway? – and left the room in search of answers.

* * *

The first thing he noticed was the smell. Warm, rich, spicy aromas seemed to be emanating from somewhere, and his stomach groaned as soon as he smelt it. Clasping his stomach with one hand, Sokka walked round the rooms of the house. His head hurt more with movement, but there was nothing he could do about that.

"Hello? Old woman – I mean, Fire Nation lady? Is anybody here?"

There seemed to be endless rooms in this house. Then again, Sokka was finding it hard to walk very fast without feeling sick.

All his footsteps echoed too loudly. Cursing his clumsiness, Sokka tried to be as silent as possible. It occurred to him that he had not asked Katara whether the old lady was the sole member of the household.

The walls were made of a deep brown wood. There were hangings on almost every wall; some depicted battles, others appealing scenes of mountains and fields, things that he had never seen in his life before. Sokka thought how strange it was that Fire Nation people had pretty embroidered patterns decorating their houses. He had always imagined them as being cold, metal buildings much like those dreaded ships.

He had never been in a house like this before, the ones at home being made of cloth and ice and filled with furs, and it fascinated him. Whoever thought of wooden floors? The ones at home had been covered with animal skins to keep their feet warm…

All of a sudden, homesickness threatened to overcome him. Swallowing it down, Sokka continued.

"Hello?" he called again. The smell of food was getting stronger (wow, was he _ever _hungry), and Sokka knew he had come to the right place when he hit a wall of warm air outside one door, and he could hear something bubbling inside the room… He stood outside for a second before going through, wary, though not afraid of, who he might find on the other side.

* * *

Ailin was cooking when she heard the sound of the door swinging open. She turned around, expecting to see the little girl, but no – it was the boy. "You're awake, then. Just as well. I'm making you some food." She wasn't sure what else to say.

Sokka struggled with his instant, instinctive like of anybody who gave him food for a second before speaking. "I want to know where we are."

Ailin shot him a sharp glance. "I would have thought your sister filled you out on that already. The way she was screaming on about it, you would think it was a bad thing, being here –"

"Bad thing?" Sokka gritted his teeth, one hand unconsciously clenching into a fist. "This is the Fire Nation – you could say that's a bad thing!"

Ailin didn't respond, turning around instead to stir a rich, sweet mixture in a pot above the fire. She wasn't getting into any fights here – not another one. If she ended up quarreling with the boy, her own anger might force her to put them both back out on the street, and then she would be alone again, and she didn't want to think about that.

"Where are we?" Sokka repeated.

"We're in a port town on the eastern side of the Fire Nation, a couple of miles from the Palace City. How's your head?"

"I –" Sokka sighed. "I don't know. It feels pretty bad."

Ailin scowled when she saw that he had unraveled his bandage. "You were _supposed _to keep that on, you know."

Sokka shrugged. "It'll be fine." He folded his arms. "Why are you helping us?"

"What do you mean, _why_?"

"You and the rest of the Fire Nation aren't exactly well-known for your hospitality," said Sokka angrily. "In case you didn't know."

Ailin didn't reply. How dare he be so ungrateful? When he was that age, Taj had had some manners. Swallowing down the hot irritation that had started to rise in her chest, Ailin reminded herself just what the boy and his sister had been through. They had probably never even seen a house before. "How old are you?"

"Where is this going?" Sokka, suspicious, took a step back so he was standing right in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "Are you seeing how much you can get if you sell us off to slavery?"

Ailin's frown deepened. The stirring-spoon dropped into the pot and she turned around. "I'm not planning to do anything of the sort," she said hotly. "In fact, I've been nothing but helpful to you since you arrived – surely you realized that? Or did you think the spirits made that bed for you, and bandaged you and your sister? Is it just my imagination, or am I making you a meal right now? Show some _respect_ for me! You should be _grateful_."

But Sokka refused to back down. "I know what you're like. Your whole Nation is corrupt and bloodthirsty and I don't trust you one bit –"

"Then why are we even this moment fighting to enlighten you? To help you see the way to a better, more prosperous future, one where which we can all – as a world – benefit from! If that isn't generous I don't know what _is _–"

"_What?_" Sokka's eyes widened. His entire expression changed from suspicion and anger in one moment, utter shock the next. "But – but you –"

"But I what?" Ailin glared at the boy.

Sokka sighed, and the anger was back. "You sounded like you were reading from a propaganda poster."

"Nonsense," retorted Ailin, all the angrier because it was true. "What I said was the truth. You are fools for not wanting to share in our greatness. In our _glory_."

"I don't know _anything_ about glory!" shouted Sokka, incensed. "All I know is that there's a big black ship on the shore near our village from when the Fire Nation came and raided us. All I know is that my tribe has turned into just a load of tents and women since you came and attacked and my dad, my dad _left _to fight you, and I don't know why we're here now but I bet it has something to do with you!"

"Stop this silly nonsense right this instant."

"_It's not nonsense!_" And to his great shame and surprise, the corners of Sokka's eyes began to sting.

Hot tears threatened to pour down his cheeks; he turned away so that Ailin would not see, and wiped them away from his eyes in one angry, frustrated gesture. He felt completely drained – even the act of shouting had used up his energy and made his head throb more.

For the first time, Ailin remembered she was talking to a child, a boy who knew nothing of the designs of Firelords, or of war itself. He couldn't see all the good things about the War – and besides, he wasn't in his right mind, hurt and homesick as he must be.

"I'm sorry," said Ailin quietly. "I shouldn't have shouted. No – really – I shouldn't. What's your name?"

"Sokka." When he could trust himself not to lose his composure, he turned back around to face the old woman. Both of them stood uncomfortably on opposite sides of the room, neither having the right or the need to move closer. "And I'm fourteen."

"You don't look that old." He looked younger, but maybe that was because of his ill health. Ailin paused, and then, delicately: "Dinner's almost ready, Sokka, if you'd like to have some."

Sokka nodded wordlessly.

"Your sister, Katara, she can have some too, if she'd like."

"I don't think she _would _like – but I'll ask her anyway." Sokka turned to go, but then another thought occurred to him. "This doesn't mean I'm agreeing with you. I still don't trust the Fire Nation. And I don't know you. But –"

"Let's agree to disagree."

"Exactly."

_For now, at least, _thought Ailin. She knew the subject would have to be brought up again sooner or later, though, if they were to live in this world until they were healed; and she was sure, without a doubt, that there would be more confrontations along the way.

* * *

"Katara," said Sokka quietly. His sister was asleep on the bed, breathing deeply in and out. He took one look at her calm face, untroubled like it hadn't been since she'd woken him up, and knew he was not going to disturb her. But as he left the room, she woke up anyway.

"Sokka? What did you find out?" Shaking sleep off her like a blanket, Katara sat up, wincing at the pain in her leg.

"Not much. Only that it's going to be hard to get home – I don't think even the _spirits _knew how we got here in the first place. We're in the Fire Nation alright; not far from the Palace City, actually."

"The Firelord lives there." Katara could swear that, just for a second, her heart stopped beating. "And firebenders, and soldiers, and –"

"_Shush_." Sokka paused. "That woman isn't a bad sort of person, you know. Well. She's got some pretty ridiculous thoughts, but she's got food."

Katara laughed. "You think anybody with food is good." Then, her whole expression changed, becoming as grave and hard as stone. "I won't eat it."

Sokka grinned – but then he realized she was serious. "Katara, don't be stupid. There's no way you can go without food."

"I'd sooner eat rotten penguin meat than anything _she's _made."

"She's helping us, you know."

"I don't care. The next time I eat, I want it to be when we're back home. I want stewed sea prunes with mum." Katara jutted her jaw. "And that's final," she added, sounding just like their mother and Gran-gran, and it was obvious that she could not be swayed, just like them; but Sokka had to try.

"Katara –"

"_No_. Don't say anything, because I'm not going to change my mind."

"You will. In a few days, you will. See sense, Katara. You're twelve, you can do that. It's going to take months to get back home from where we are. You can't go months without food, you'll die!"

"If I don't eat," said Katara quietly, "then the last time I ate was at home."

Sokka sighed. For his sister, logic didn't even matter. Nothing would sway her _now_, but in a few days, when her stomach was almost eating itself in desperation, she would change her mind. Sokka knew his sister, and he knew that without a doubt.

Still, he was worried.

"I'll bring some back up for you," he said, "so that you can change your mind."

"I'm not going to."

Sokka, after striding over to her and stroking her hair once, left the room. "We'll see," he muttered to himself as he headed towards the room where Ailin had been preparing the food. "We'll see."

* * *

**A/N: **Another chapter. Tell me what you think, please! So long as you're reasonably polite and can back up your complaints and stuff, I don't mind bad things being said ;) 

Was it too long? It's certainly quite a bit longer than the other two – but it still didn't contain everything I wanted it to. Ideas for new things just keep running away with my brain at the moment, so what can you do?

I love writing Sokka, but constantly worry whether I've made him too angsty. Still, I tried to get his 'logical' side across, and some sarcasm too, though maybe that was lost somehow. Also, was this repetitive? It has the words 'Fire Nation' in it about a million times.

**Be warned:**This is not going to have Aang in it. My intention was never to rewrite the entire series only with Katara and Sokka being Fire Nation and stuff, and I just couldn't think of a way to include Aang without the story getting too long-assed for its own good. It will be a wrench, since Aang is one of my favourite characters and it'll be weird just not having him _there_ with K and S and will maybe make the fic feel incomplete…? You can be the judge of that, and can decide whether to continue reading or not.

Have a sweet night, ladies. Please review. Hope to see you next chapter!


	4. Four: New Memories

**A/N: **I don't own Avatar: The Legend of Aang.It belongs to Nickelodeon, Mike and Bryan. Thank you, Nickelodeon, Mike and Bryan!

* * *

Switching Sides

Chapter Four: New Memories

"Please come downstairs, Katara."

"No."

"But Ailin's made roast duck, with fruit tart for pudding –"

"I don't know what that is."

"Just come down and eat it, okay?'

"No."

"But Katara –"

"_No_."

* * *

"Any luck?" asked Ailin on the second day they had been staying with her. 

"No," Sokka sighed. A pause. "I'm worried," he admitted, not meeting the old woman's gaze.

"She won't starve herself. You ignore kids, they come to you anyway. They survive on affection. You'll see."

Sokka began to pile his plate with meat, succulent and spicy. Despite how much he hated the Fire Nation, there was no denying that their food was _good_. "But she doesn't want _my _affection…" His sentence fizzled out like a candle flame in a rainstorm, but as he ate – and ate and ate – his thoughts kept returning to Katara.

Ever since they had arrived, she hadn't been herself. The Katara he knew would never curl up on her bed for hours at a time, complaining that she felt sick and he wasn't to disturb her. The Katara he knew would never refuse to let Ailin change her bandage, even though it was starting to become unhygienic. The Katara he knew was bright, and happy, and talkative – and nothing like the ghost of a girl who was now the only family he had left.

_No_, Sokka thought forcefully, helping himself to some rice, _no_. _Dad and mum are still my family – even if they aren't _here_. Mum will be back at the South Pole, driven out of her mind with worry about where we've got to. Dad is off fighting. They're still alive, though, both of them, and the sooner we get home, the sooner we can put mum out of her misery_.

Whenever he spoke to himself like that, it bolstered his strength and confidence like nothing else could.

The trouble was, it was getting harder and harder to believe himself.

"Ailin? I'm not hungry anymore."

"Don't worry about your sister. She'll come around."

"You don't know Katara," Sokka retorted, gulping down a final mouthful. "She can be pretty stubborn when she wants to be. Once, when dad killed and cooked a seal she had been caring for, she didn't speak to him until the moon had done a full cycle." Sokka grinned at the memory. "I didn't mind it so much. For as long as she was angry, _I _got to be the favourite kid."

Ailin smiled at him – tentatively, not quite sure whether he wanted her to, but it was a smile all the same. "I bet you enjoyed that."

"You bet right," Sokka agreed.

But then his grin dropped abruptly, because all that was gone now. He was in the Fire Nation, and who knew when he'd get home? Who knew when he'd next see a seal, the snow, his parents? The air was hot here, and he was sure Ailin had never even heard of snow.

* * *

Despite what Ailin had said to Sokka, when Katara did not join them for a meal on the third day, she started to worry. "Any luck?" she asked Sokka at teatime. He didn't even need to reply; the look on his face was enough. 

"Don't worry," she said again.

Sokka rested his chin on a hand. "I know, I know," he said angrily. "'Don't worry, she'll come around, she can't go long without food, I know kids, blah, blah, _blah_.' But you're right – I _don't _want her to starve – and I know Katara better than you, no offence, so I can tell you she's not going to eat."

Ailin couldn't think of anything to say after that, and they ate in silence, which was a shame; because over the past few days she had started to _enjoy _the boy's company.

* * *

Katara did not come down on the fourth day. Sokka did, of course, looking tired and anxious. One glance at his face and Ailin knew what she needed to do. She had been thinking about it all night – now was the time to take action. "I'm going up to speak to Katara," she announced. Sokka stood up quickly, shaking his head hard. 

"You can't do that! She won't like it _at all_."

Ailin frowned. "I don't care whether she likes it or not – she can't starve herself over a point of principal. It's stupid and I'm putting a stop to it."

"It's not a _point of principal_, it's just that she's scared – and alone –"

"I'm very aware of how she must be feeling." Ailin knew all too well how it felt to be lonely. "But she isn't alone; she has you, and me too, whether she likes it or not. It isn't fair for her to sit up there and worry you silly just because of her own feelings."

"She isn't usually this selfish," said Sokka quietly. "If you knew her before, you'd understand."

Ailin stood up. "But I _didn't _know her before. All I know is that she's being selfish now. Not to mention horribly ungrateful. I'm going to have words with that girl…"

Sokka didn't say anything. He wouldn't admit it, but it felt _good_ to have somebody else in control. Slowly, he sat back down as Ailin left the room.

* * *

Ailin knocked on the door firmly, something she had done countless times before in a lifetime long since gone. The sound echoed through the house, but there was no reply from the other side of the door, only an ominous silence that riled Ailin more than it made her nervous. She had little time for the silliness of petulant children. "Katara? Katara, I'm coming in, dear." 

There was a muffled sort of half-sentence from inside the room. Ailin walked in. The floor was strewn with pillows from Sokka's bed (typical of a sensible lad like him to not make up his covers), and the window was closed. A pair of dusty curtains was drawn across it. The lamp was burning dangerously low in the dim room and was giving off black smoke; Ailin gagged on the thick, choking air. It smelt horrible. On the bed, Katara was sitting in a nest of tangled covers.

When she saw Ailin, her expression changed from bewilderment to mistrust in a second. "Go away."

"No. You can't stay here any longer, Katara. You need to eat, and I need to change your bandage." Katara remained silent. Ailin strode over to the bed. "I know you're upset, but this can't continue."

No reply.

"Katara –"

"_I'm not eating_. Okay? I'm not doing it because I want attention, either, which I know you think I am!" Katara's voice was high-pitched and infuriated, threatening to shatter into sobs any second.

"Then why _are _you doing it?"

"Because I don't want to be here!" Katara threw herself face-down onto the mattress, ignoring the pain in her leg and burying her face in her arms. She would not cry. Whatever she did, she would not cry again in front of this woman. She deeply regretted the last time.

Anger flared up in Ailin's chest, hot and strong. "How do you think your brother feels, with you not eating? He's horribly worried about you, Katara – I know you won't eat for me, because for some reason you hate me, but you have to do it for him. You have to."

"No I don't!"

"Aren't you hungry?"

"_Yes_!" Katara sat up again and glared straight at Ailin, her gaze burning straight into the older woman's eyes. "Yes, I'm hungry, but I'm not going to eat! I _won't_."

"Don't you know what you're doing? _Listen to me _–"

"I don't want to listen to you, and I don't _care _what I'm doing! I don't care about anything, I don't –"

But Katara didn't finish her sentence, because just then Ailin's hand – almost of its own accord – came into sharp contact with her cheek. A resounding _crack _filled the musty stillness of the room as Katara's head snapped back and, dizzy and stupid from the blow, she reeled backwards. She curled up like some creature at the bottom of a rock pool and began to sob in earnest.

Her mother had never hit her. Never in her life had Katara imagined being hurt by somebody else – she had always been the one everyone liked. Now she was being hit by a complete stranger! It was this change, not the pain of the blow, which made her cry.

Ailin tried not to feel sorry for her, she really did. The girl deserved everything she'd got – Ailin had slapped Taj for smaller things than this – but the sight of Katara lying on the bed, battered and tearful, played a strange tune on her heartstrings. "It's alright," she heard herself saying. "Shush now."

After the stinging pain in her cheek had dissipated, which it did soon enough, Katara realized she wasn't angry. All her fury had been drained away. Now there was just a deep, steady ache inside her that wouldn't go away.

She felt calmer, strangely. Her thoughts came slower than they had before – they were more manageable now, not just a jumble of words and pictures.

The first thing she thought was: _She's being kind to me. Why?_ And then, _I needed that slap._ Somehow, it had brought her back to reality. Yes, she was here, but she was also alive – and one day, she would go home.

"A – Ailin?" Katara pulled away from the older woman. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for worrying Sokka like I did – it's just – but I shouldn't make excuses." She twisted her hands in her lap. "And I'm sorry for… for worrying you, too. And I _am _hungry."

"I'm sorry too. Well. A bit. So you'll eat?" Ailin tried a kind smile out for size. Katara gazed back at her solemnly for a second before responding with a returned smile that, in reality, was more like a grimace.

"I think I have to."

_Praise the spirits._"Come with me."

Katara stood up, her right leg wobbling beneath her. To her dismay, she found she could barely support herself – her leg was bad enough (and it hurt even more now she was standing up, and her muscles were stiff and achy all over), but combined with a terrible, gut-twisting hunger it was a wonder she could move at all. Ailin took her arm and led her gently out of the door.

* * *

"Sokka?" 

"Katara!" Sokka stood up in a second, knocking his bowl over so that rice spilled onto the shining wooden tabletop.

He took his sister off Ailin and sat her in his place. "You've decided to eat!" Without waiting for a reply, he got Katara a bowl and started piling it with food. "Fire flakes? They're good, but maybe too spicy. This meat is delicious, I don't know what it is, but it's tasty –"

"_Sokka. _I'll choose for myself, thanks." Her brother retreated.

Katara gazed at the table before her, laden with food, and in that moment she realised just how bad real hunger was.

Greedily she stuffed it down her, not bothering to taste it, filling herself up until her stomach refused to take any more – and then some. It was so _good_ to eat, to be free to have what she wanted. It wasn't sea prunes or seal blubber, but right now she couldn't care less. If it had been rotten ostrich-horse, she still would have eaten it.

Sokka watched his sister munch with a satisfied smile on his face. He turned to Ailin. "How'd you convince her?"

Ailin shook her head. "I honestly don't know."

"Well, whatever it was, you're a genius," Sokka announced as Katara helped herself to seconds.

"Maybe," agreed Ailin. "Or just a mother."

"A mother?" Sokka was surprised. He had never thought about the Fire Nation women being mothers, which was pretty stupid considering he knew exactly how that nation – and the other two – had become populated by dribbling brats.

He wanted to ask Ailin more about it, but he was fourteen and it made him strangely uncomfortable to think about asking her, and besides her face had become closed as a clam. He knew that look from his mother; she wasn't going to say anything else.

When Katara had eaten her fill, Ailin approached her.

"Wasn't that good?"

Katara nodded. She was still terribly thin, but there was a shine in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "Thank you for the food. And thank you… for other things." Now that she felt better, Katara's previous actions embarrassed her – she found she was blushing.

"But –" Sokka began. Katara wasn't supposed to _like _Ailin. What had changed her? What had happened? He glanced between the two, and saw that there was no hostility left. _Maybe they used it all up._

"Can I change your bandage now?" asked Ailin.

Katara's gaze snapped to Sokka. "Sokka, no," she said in a low voice, quietly but urgently, her demeanor changing in a second.

Her brother gritted his teeth. He could tell another argument was coming. "Well –"

"_No!_ It hurts too much!" Katara touched her bandage protectively and winced at the contact.

Pressing a finger to her forehead, Ailin sighed. Spirits, this girl was a nightmare to help. "It hurts all the more because your bandage is dirty. It's dangerous; it could get infected. You have to let me."

"Sokka –"

"She's right, Katara." Looking at the expression on his sister's face, Sokka felt like a traitor. "It's got to be done."

"But –"

Ailin spoke firmly. "I'm going to do it, Katara, whether you like it or not. But if you choose to struggle, it will just hurt you all the more. I don't want to hurt you –" Katara snorted "– I _don't_, but your wound gets infected, you might not even survive!"

That silenced Katara. She glanced from one to the other – Sokka, then Ailin, then back again – and saw the worry on their faces. They cared about her (though how somebody from the Fire Nation was capable of caring about anyone was a mystery), and she couldn't let them down. "Okay," she said faintly. Fear rose up in her chest. "Do it."

* * *

Katara's face was pale. She was sweating buckets. Her head hurt. Her brother's hands were on her shoulders, and she was sitting on the floor with her legs stuck straight out in front of her, and her back was against one of the posts of her bed. 

Ailin, equipped with a bucket of warm water, a cloth, fresh bandages and a grim expression, knelt at Katara's feet. "I'm going to be as gentle as possible," she said, "but being slow will only make it more painful."

"It's going to hurt?"

"I'm afraid so."

Sokka squeezed Katara's shoulders extra hard. She felt faint, and leant her head back against the post.

"You ready?" Ailin paused to wait for her reply.

Katara couldn't speak. Her throat had closed up. Instead, she nodded, and Sokka spoke for her: "Yes."

Ailin peeled off the bandage quickly – and the pain was so bad, it was almost unendurable. Katara let out a great, gasping wail, her eyes squeezed tight shut. Tears escaped anyway, dribbling hotly down her cheeks.

"That hurts," she moaned. "That hurts. Stop, stop, _I want my mum_!"

"You've got me," Sokka said grimly. He pressed a hand to her forehead, giving Ailin a nod. The woman continued to take of the bandage. Katara screamed no more, but it was clear she wanted to – she bit on her lip so hard it bled, and sweat stuck her undergarments to her, and she was aware of nothing but Sokka's hand on her forehead and the pain in her leg –

"It's off," Ailin announced after what felt like hours.

Katara willed herself not to look at her shin. After all that pain, the result couldn't be good.

It wasn't that she was squeamish. She had grown up in a harsh environment, and she knew what blood looked like. She knew she could cope with other peoples' – but her own? In a strange place, where there was no home and no bed and no mum? She wasn't strong enough. She willed herself not to glance at the damage; not even when Sokka looked himself and his eyes widened in disgust.

"What is it?" she asked, panicking. Sokka merely shook his head.

It was Ailin who answered. "This is going to take a while to heal – if it does at all." Ailin began washing, and then redressing, Katara's leg. It didn't hurt as much as the un-bandaging, but oh, it felt terrible.

"What do you mean, 'if it does'? It will, won't it, Sokka?"

"I don't know, Katara."

"But you _must _know! Sokka! Tell me!"

"Don't look, Katara," was all he would say, over and over again. "Don't look."

But eventually, Katara couldn't help it. Just before Ailin covered the last part of the injury with cotton, she glanced down towards her feet.

Most of the wound was covered up, but there was one tiny cut and smudge still in sight. It was only a bit of blood, but it was enough – and Katara, who had hoped and hoped her memory would come back to her in the last lonely days, found that it _did _– or some of it – and it was –

"_No! They're my children; you don't understand, you don't understand!" Katara's mother's figure was blotting out the su__nlight. She was silhouetted, looking all the braver for it – and she was between the soldiers and her children –_

Katara couldn't move. Another memory overcame her – she shut her eyes –

"_Hush, hush, Katara, there's no use in crying! Wipe those silly tears away, sweetheart, and be brave. Look after her, Sokka. I love you both. Now go – oh, I'm so glad you know how to sail one of these things – and don't let anybody catch you. Just go – just go, and," tears glittered in her mother's eyes, "don't look back. No, don't look back. I love you. I _love _you. Goodbye!"_

_She was being bundled into a boat, with Sokka beside her. "No – no, you can't do it! Don't send me away, mu__m! I won't let you! No! _No!"

_But despite her protests, the shore was getting further and further away… Her mother's figure was a distant blot, barely distinguishable from the ice, now and Sokka was pulling her back to stop her from jumping out of the boat. "Mum told you not to look," he said over and over again – she was out of sight –_

_And then the scream came. High and painful and wild. It echoed off the surrounding icebergs all the way to their little boat._

_Katara stopped fighting – she slumped into her brother's arms and didn't even cry. Tears would come later, she was sure of that – but now, the only thing she felt was numb. "Come on," said Sokka finally. "Let's start paddling."_

* * *

"She's waking up," whispered Sokka as Katara's eyelids fluttered once and she rolled over. "Katara?" 

His sister moaned. Ailin, sitting on a chair at the end of Katara's freshly-made bed, stood up and left the room. She could tell the two needed to be left alone.

"Ugh," was Katara's first word. "I feel terrible."

"You fainted," Sokka supplied. "Right after we changed your bandage. You looked, you stupid girl! You weren't supposed to look."

"I couldn't help… couldn't help it," murmured Katara, pulling the silky covers tighter around her. All she wanted to do was go to sleep. She didn't want to think about the fresh new memories in her mind, or even about home anymore. Now that 'home' might not even be there. Now that she knew it might be burned to the ground.

"You did look pretty terrible," sighed Sokka. "What was it? You were never scared of blood before."

"I'm not scared," said Katara indignantly, "I just – I remembered."

"You what?"

"I _remembered_. What happened, I mean." Suddenly, Katara felt worse even than she had upon waking up here. Home was _gone, _and her mother was _dead_, and she couldn't go back now, not ever –

"What? Was it an accident? A storm?" But Sokka knew it couldn't have been. Accidents, when the memory of them returned, didn't make you faint. Didn't make you scream like she had.

"No." Katara buried her face in her pillow, so that her next sentence was barely audible. "It was a Fire Nation raid." She paused. "And Sokka… Sokka, I don't even know whether she's still alive."

No need to ask who 'she' was. Sokka sat down heavily on the edge of Katara's bed and patted her back. "Mum'll be fine, you'll see. You'll see when we get home."

"I don't _want _to go back!" protested Katara, her voice sounding strangled. "You know what else I remembered? She's dead. She's dead and we can't do a thing about it." It was strange, the way she had done so much crying recently, and now that this terrible news had sunk in, she couldn't cry at all. Waiting for the tears to come, she felt stupid. Presently she sat up to find that Sokka had gone stock still.

"Don't talk like that," he said stonily, sounding so unlike himself that it was frightening.

Katara didn't want another argument, so she nodded.

"We both need to sleep." Sokka got into his bed and Katara curled up in hers, sighing as the warmth of the covers enveloped her once again. The bed wasn't a sleeping bag, but it was definitely as warm and comfortable as one. Sokka was slightly less happy with his sleeping arrangements – the wooden floor was uneven, with lumps sticking out in all the wrong places, and even soft pillows couldn't mask the fact that he was not sleeping in a proper bed.

"Well, goodnight, Sokka."

"'Night. And Katara?"

"Yes?" Already Katara's voice was heavy with sleep.

"I will find us a way to get back, I promise. Mum isn't dead."

His sister didn't reply – though whether that was because she disagreed with him or had fallen asleep, he didn't want to know.

* * *

**A/N: **Another chapter! Well, obviously. It was actually written a lot earlier than this, but I needed to make sure that the whole 'flashback' bit was as genuine as possible; because since the plan was written, I've become less happy with using 'death' in general as a plot device. 

There were comments about the status of Katara's waterbending and stuff, so: She doesn't know she can yet. They don't tell us when she found out in the show, but I'm guessing it was when she was older because the thought probably didn't even cross her mind, being brought up in a village with no benders at all. Note I said '_yet'_. Oh, yeah, and with regards to Ailin's age, she is in her late-fifties to early-sixties, though she is not wise like Iroh and is generally an impatient, no-nonsense sort of person. But she's kind, too.

You must think _something _after reading this, be it good or bad. Review and say, please

Thanks for reading! And thanks for the lovely reviews so far, too. They're great and made me smile. :P

**PS: I **_**do not support the hitting of children.**_Nope. Not at all. Only Ailin supports that, and this is the Fire Nation after all. ('Young man, when we get home, you're going to get the punishment of a lifetime!' 'That's what I like to hear'.) So don't try that at home!


	5. Five: In Disguise

I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. (And the world breathes a sigh of relief.)

* * *

Switching Sides

Chapter Five: In Disguise

Over the next week, Sokka had plenty of time to think about his promise to Katara. The siblings had to stay inside in order to remain undiscovered, which meant that their days had now fixed into the same boring routine: They woke up, had breakfast, talked, had dinner, sat together in their room – usually in silence, because there was nothing to say – had tea and then finally went to bed.

This monotony was starting to drive Sokka crazy, and he found himself thinking of his days back at the South Pole more and more. Back then, he had barely been away from the fresh air; he had gone hunting and fishing, and in the spaces between he had attempted to train the younger boys in the art of the warrior. After all, since his father had left, it was up to him to defend Katara, his mother and his tribe.

Those days seemed ages ago now, although it had really only been a small amount of time since he had woken up in Ailin's house. Maybe it was because their days were so boring that they seemed to drag on forever; his life here was far removed from his previous one.

But if he had his way, then both he and Katara would be back in the South before long. Although Katara claimed that she did not want to go back home now she knew their mother was dead (and refused to talk, or – he suspected – think about anything which concerned their previous life), he did not believe her for a second. After all, she hated the Fire Nation perhaps even more than he did; she must know, on some level, that one day they would have to move on.

Sokka was also not sure whether Katara's memories were real or not. After her first initial outburst, she had refused to tell him anything about what she had remembered, which caused Sokka to question the integrity of her memories. She had been delirious and in pain, and most certainly had not been in her right mind – and anyway, Sokka did not believe anything he had not seen with his own eyes.

And so, while Katara was gazing glumly out of the window at the smoggy city beyond and complaining about the heat, Sokka was busy thinking about ways he could get them both safely home.

* * *

Ailin twisted her hair back into a simple bun before her mirror, sighing as she registered the shadows beneath her eyes and the scruffiness of her clothing. She looked as though she had let herself go – and yet, she had been busier in this past week than she had been in years, although Katara and Sokka knew nothing about it.

For a week, Ailin had been hurrying about town, claiming favours from people she had not seen in years in order to attain what was now laid out immaculately on her bed: clothing suitable for a respectable, if poor, Fire Nation girl and boy, two sets of papers denoting 'Sonji' and 'Rei' as citizens of that most Glorious Nation, and an old, torn atlas of the most Rich and Plentiful Country.

In short, everything that was needed to turn Katara and Sokka into proper Fire Nation citizens.

She had decided to do this a week before, shortly after Katara's leg had been redressed. Now that there were three people in the house to feed instead of one, Ailin's food stores were dwindling fast; so was the stash of money in the pot at the back of her cupboard. However monotonous her job at the market might be, she needed to get back to gutting fish in order to pay for her two new charges.

Of course, it was easier said than done. When she went to work, Ailin would have to take the children with her; there were no two ways about it. If she left them to their own devices in an empty house, who knew what they would do? They were, after all, Water Tribe children, and so naturally had none of the refined manner of all good Sons and Daughters of Fire. No, when she went to work, they would have to come too.

That in itself posed another danger. Ailin had lived alone for years, and her neighbours were a nosy lot; she had no doubt in her mind that as soon as Katara and Sokka stepped outside of the confines of her house, they would be accosted by everybody who lived on the street and beyond: newcomers were always subject to a thorough inspection before being accepted as part of the community. At the moment, Sokka and Katara would not be able to cope with that: they barely knew the name of the Fire Lord, let alone all the ins-and-outs of Fire Nation life they would need to know in order to not be found out.

With this in mind, Ailin had decided to give them lessons in everything from the Oath to how to clip their toenails in the Fire Nation fashion.

The only trouble was that she had not told them yet. She had no delusions about how they would take the news; Katara still believed she would be going home by the end of next month. However, it had to be done, and if she didn't do it then who would?

With a sigh and a glance at the portrait beside her bed, Ailin left her room and made her way downstairs, her mind running through every possible way she could think of to break the news to the children.

* * *

In the end, the best she could do was to be blunt about it. If she got over the first hurdle and told them, then the rest would surely fall into place. Surely. Still, Ailin waited until dinner to tell the pair of her plans, and it was with an air of trepidation that she finally cleared her throat.

"Katara. Sokka. I have something to ask you." She did not like the word _ask_. She was _telling _them, dammit!

Katara, who had been gazing down at her noodles with an air of disgust, almost as though they were alive, lifted her gaze to meet Ailin's. "What is it?" She could tell by the tone of the old woman's voice that whatever it was, it was serious.

Sokka stopped eating to listen, wiping a noodle off his chin as he stared at Ailin intently.

"I need to work, and I need to take you with me. I want to teach you how to be Fire Nation citizens so you don't get caught."

There was a moment of silence, and then:

"NO!" Katara sprang out of her seat so fast she was just a blur. Her eyes were wide with shock and bewilderment; her wounded leg shook beneath her, but she refused to sit down. "I'm not going to – not _ever _–"

"Sit back down," Sokka instructed Katara, who slowly slipped back into her seat, although she had lost none of her desperation.

"But – but our identity, Sokka, and our plans to go home – we can't –"

"Shut up, Katara." Sokka turned to Ailin. "Listen. We appreciate what you're doing for us – really. But can't you see we're not here to stay? Another few weeks at the most, and then we're going home." He had the infuriating air of talking to somebody who was mentally challenged, or perhaps just not logical enough for his liking.

"I _know _you aren't here to stay," replied Ailin, thinking that Sokka's sensibility was a gift from the spirits; if it wasn't for him, she would be left dealing with an overly-hysterical Katara. "But while you are, you need to fit in."

"Why can't we just stay in the house?" asked Katara, directing a question at Ailin while keeping her gaze firmly fixed on her brother. Ailin studied the girl's profile through a veil of anger – anger that soon melted into fondness. She looked beautiful and wild, a child of the sea more than the land, and her whole demeanour betrayed the fact that she had grown up with the freedom to play, run around, and discover things for herself. Fire Nation children did not look like that: how could they, growing up with rigid rules, threatened with a beating for stepping out of line? For a second, Ailin wondered whether she should be attempting to 'civilise' these children at all.

"Ailin?" asked Sokka tentatively. How long had she been gazing at Katara?

With a shake of her head, Ailin banished all treacherous thoughts from her mind, and her thoughts returned to the matter at hand. "You can't stay inside because I don't trust you in the house," said Ailin bluntly, cringing at the softness she had just shown and determined to show them that she would not be won over. _I must be going senile in my old age_.

"We'd be good," pleaded Katara, turning her imploring face towards Ailin. "I promise I won't do anything. I'll sit on my bed all day, I _promise _– just don't make me change my name. Don't make me Fire Nation!"

Sokka put an arm round his sister's shoulders so that Ailin saw them as a united front. The sight made her want to give up.

"She's right, Ailin. I'm sorry, but we _can't_."

Ailin stood up slowly. "I see." And she did. Suddenly, she knew the only way to get them to do what she wanted – although it made her stomach curl to think that she had been reduced to such low methods. "But you still have to do it."

"But we –"

"'But, but, but.' Just shut up and _listen _for once. If you don't do exactly what I say, I will put you back where I found you, and that's on the harbour, by the sea. There are criminals there, people who don't care whether you're children or not; if you're Water Tribe, they _will _kill you. Maybe then you'll realise just exactly what a risk I'm taking for both of your sakes." Ailin's gaze was hard, daring either of them to challenge her. "I know about this place, and you don't. If you want to survive, you _must _follow my lead."

Slowly, Sokka nodded. Katara bowed her head.

"Right," said Ailin briskly. "Lessons start tomorrow morning."

* * *

They started with the Oath. All Fire Nation children were taught it before they could walk; it was intrinsically woven throughout their lives like a thread in a tapestry. It was a lullaby, a part of the school curriculum, and a recital at funerals. Given the importance it had amongst Fire Nation citizens, it was apt that they should begin with it.

It was also, as Sokka soon found, _very _hard to memorise.

"And with my – my mind, I seek to – er –"

"Wrong," snapped Ailin after watching him struggle to recall the phrase for a few moments more. "Come on, Sokka. I told you what the next line was only a minute ago!"

"Hey – I can't help it if I wasn't indoctrinated with in from before I was _born_ – ow! What was that for?" Ailin had given Sokka a sharp cuff to the side of his head.

"For being disrespectful. Saying that sort of thing about town could earn you a night in the local prison – and it doesn't look too good from my point of view either. Katara, let's try you."

"And with my mind I seek ways to better my country," replied Katara instantly, her voice never faltering. Her tone was a flat line, her face blank – but the disgust that shone through her eyes was as clear as a candle in a dark room. She fixed her tutor with a chilling stare when she had finished, daring Ailin to fault her.

"You remembered it, Katara, but saying it like that won't get you anywhere. Sokka, what comes next?"

"Um." Looking intensely ill at ease, Sokka began to recite. "With my, er, nose, I seek to – to smell –"

"There is no 'nose' in the Fire Nation Oath!" Ailin slammed a palm into the wall. They were only two hours into their first lesson, and already the children had succeeded in making her livid. Not only were they not putting their full efforts into learning the Oath, they insisted on turning it into a battlefield. Sokka was sarcastic as often as possible, and Katara – well, she just wasn't willing. No matter how hard Ailin tried to impress upon her the importance of fitting in, the girl would not budge from her firm belief that the Fire Nation was evil. Ailin was starting to wonder if she'd ever learn.

"What is it about this that is so bad? It's just an oath! You don't even need to mean it! If you don't do this properly, we'll all starve, because I refuse to go back to work until I am certain you won't give us away and get us all killed!"

Humbled by Ailin's anger, Sokka mumbled a brief "sorry" as he gazed uncomfortably at the ground; Ailin was not their mother. She was under no obligation to help them in the way she was.

Katara's features softened into compassion. "Ailin," she said quietly. "I know you know how hard it is for us. Everything about this goes against our nature. But," and here she also stared at the highly-polished floor, trying desperately to swallow her pride, "it must be hard for you too. I'm sorry. I'll try harder."

For a moment, Sokka saw a flash of the kind Katara he had known back in the South Pole.

By the end of that day, both children had succeeded in reciting the Oath near-perfectly; by the end of the week they could say it with the correct accent, as well as locate and name all the major cities in the Fire Nation on a map, tell Ailin about the five most significant Fire Nation conquests in the past hundred years in detail (thankfully none of these involved the Water Tribes), and name every Fire Lord, starting with Ozai and working back to Sozin.

After two weeks, they could address a noble in the correct fashion, Katara could pour tea and cook several basic meals, Sokka knew (after a long, hard struggle and sharp words from Ailin) all the sports results since the last winter, and they both knew that 'flameo' was the same as 'ice' and 'hotman' was the same as 'brother'. The main bulk of their work was done.

"Now," said Ailin, dreading the inevitable friction that her next words would cause, "it's time to establish your characters."

* * *

"My name's Sonji," Sokka began. "I was born and raised in the Fire Nation colony near Omashu. My father was a foot-soldier in the war. His name was Xon. Because of my sickly nature early in life, I was never taught any fighting techniques, but instead went hunting with my father. When I was ten and my sister Rei was eight, he was killed by a band of Earth Kingdom rebels. My birthday is in the winter. When I am older, I want to become a soldier like my father."

"Good." Ailin turned to Katara, and Sokka breathed a sigh of relief, only to take in another breath and hold it; Katara's expression was a mixture of fear, resent and resigned submission. She was like a beast in the circus. "Katara, now you try."

"My name is Rei," she began slowly. "I was born and lived in the Fire Nation colony near Omashu with my brother, my mother and my father. My mother's name was – my mother's – she was called Tianqi. Under her instruction, I learnt to mend clothes and cook simple meals. She – she died shortly after I turned twelve, and my brother and I were sent to you. You are our father's second cousin."

"Well done," said Ailin quietly. Katara's forehead was glistening with sweat; lying about her nationality and, in particular, her mother caused her physical exertion.

Katara bowed her head. "I have to fit in and not give us away. I understand that."

But despite trying to convince Ailin otherwise, her misgivings were still strong – especially the next day, when she and her brother were made to look like Fire Nation citizens as well as act like them.

"We need to cut your hair," instructed Ailin first thing the next morning, briskly drawing up a chair for Katara, who sat down shakily, too tired and bemused to protest. The process of learning how to belong in another world had taken a toll out of her.

"Why?"

"Fire Nation girls don't wear their hair in long plaits," explained Ailin. "It shows looseness of nature and lack of discipline, and besides it's a hairstyle for men." Katara scowled. "Your hair is far too wild. Since I have no idea how to cultivate it, and we can hardly go to a professional even if I could afford it, I'm going to cut it off. Besides, it's practical."

"I –" Katara tried to protest, but found that no logical argument sprung to mind. Ailin's voice was that of truth and practicality. Still, Katara did not like it.

In the Water Tribes, long hair was the crowning jewel for young women; she had been the envy of her friends with her long wavy locks, which were just on the right side of manageable. She had started to realise, though, that Fire Nation life was all about holding things back; you pinned back your hair, kept your face impassive, stood neutrally and never raised your voice. All this constriction made her feel claustrophobic – and there was nothing she could do about it.

Sensing Katara's anxiety, Ailin chose that moment to begin issuing orders. A quick, clean cut: that was what they needed.

"Sokka, get me a knife from the kitchen."

"A _knife_?" Sokka clenched his fists in an instinctive gesture of suspicion. The very idea of handing Ailin – a citizen of the Fire Nation – a knife made his heart beat faster.

"What did you think I was going to use? A plank of wood? Hurry up; we have much more to cover today."

Slowly, and with misgivings in his every footstep, Sokka made his way to the kitchen. He was beginning to know where everything was here; the knife was placed neatly in a box with the other cutlery. Which one should he get – the wooden handled or the sharp? With a start, Sokka realised that this place was becoming familiar – almost like home.

He chose the sharp knife, reasoning that it would cut through hair much more cleanly, but halfway back to their bedroom, where the lessons were taking place, he wished he'd picked the other.

Sokka stopped abruptly and gazed down at the knife. He turned it over in his hands, shivering as the cold metal caught the light and glinted cruelly. This was no simple kitchen knife; it had been made with killing in mind, although Ailin used it only to cut meat. Its handle seemed to buzz with a thirst for blood, almost as though it was alive. Sokka tried to dispel such thoughts from his mind, but any attempt to abolish them was futile.

His eyes caught sight of an inscription on the handle. Holding it up to the light, he made out the words: _Taj, in your fourteenth year._ On the other side of the handle, there was another message, this one less personal: _Proud soldier_.

"– Ow!" In a sudden outburst of gasping pain Sokka dropped the knife, staggering backwards a few steps before regaining his composure and working out the source of the hurt.

His palm. The knife had cut his palm. Bright blood blossomed in the centre of his hand, spreading outwards through the grooves in his skin and spilling down his wrist. Sokka, who had only recently been able to take the bandage off his forehead, was furious at his stupidity. He had held plenty of knives before, and had never sustained even the smallest of grazes.

"Stupid Fire Nation craftsmanship," he muttered under his breath as he buried his hand in his robe to hide the blood and, with some trepidation, bent down to pick up the knife from where it had skidded into a corner.

"Sokka!" called Ailin from the next room. "Where – is – that – _knife_?"

"Coming!" shouted Sokka, hurrying as fast as he could towards their room, where Katara and Ailin were still waiting. When he entered the room, Katara stared at him with her grave blue gaze, and Ailin held out her hand for the knife.

Sokka found he could not pass it to her. "Look – I'll do it."

"Oh? And what do you know about cutting hair?"

"I –" Sokka caught sight of Katara's small brown neck, fully visible now that Ailin had lifted the plait up in order to cut it. He couldn't let Ailin put a knife anywhere near that neck. The thought of his mother filled his mind. He still had not recovered his memory, but he trusted his sister's account of events. "Look, it's difficult to explain, but I'm sure I can do it –"

"Sokka. If you trust me, you'll pass me the knife." Ailin knew all to well what was on the boy's mind, and she could not suppress the thought that this was a test of the siblings' trust in her to keep them safe.

Finding no way out of it, Sokka surrendered the knife into Ailin's small, wrinkled hand. He told himself he was being irrational – he _knew _he was being irrational. Ailin was perfectly safe, but somehow the disloyal thought that she might not be trustworthy still lingered in his mind. When he was younger, his grandmother – with the previous raid on the Southern Water Tribe clear in her mind – had impressed upon him the simple advice that he should never trust anybody in red. "_If you see someone wearing red, Sokka, you run home and tell your father immediately. Don't stop for even a second_."

And yet here he was, standing before Ailin, handing her a knife.

Ailin lifted Katara's plait a little higher, and Sokka's palms began to sweat. The cut on his hand stung painfully.

And then, in one swift movement, Ailin brought the knife down towards Katara's neck –

"_GET THAT THING AWAY FROM MY SISTER!_"

Sokka's reaction was so fast it was involuntary. He stepped forward, knocking the knife from Ailin's hand; it missed her face by inches and slammed into the wall on the far side of the room with an almighty crash, sliding down to land on the floor.

"Sokka!" cried Katara and Ailin in unison, both equally shocked at this irrational outburst.

Sokka realised what he had done in the same moment, but unlike the others he remained totally still, his hand still raised in midair, his expression holding something of a mix between disbelief and shame.

"Ailin –"

"Well," said Ailin, cutting across Sokka with considerable skill and aplomb considering the situation, "that's one way to cut hair." There was a note of finality in her voice which told both the children that they were not to speak of this incident.

Lifting a hand tentatively to her hair, Katara realised that her plait had been severed clean off; her head felt strangely light, in both senses of the word. She was thoroughly bemused – and chilled – by her brother's actions. He was always the rational one, the one to think before he acted – and yet here he was, shouting spontaneously and at the top of his voice.

The Fire Nation was changing them.

She would not allow it.

* * *

However, Katara still felt changed when she stood before the mirror – her leg was just strong enough to support her – in her new attire.

It was Ailin's mirror, and was by far the most expensive-looking thing she had ever seen. Its frame was either made of gold or was an excellent imitation; a pair of dragons was carved into it, twining sinuously around the piece of oblong glass. She had gasped when she had seen it; Ailin had muttered "family heirloom" and left it at that.

But for all its elegance, it was not the mirror that amazed Katara as much as what she saw within it. Never before had she seen herself with such clarity; back in the South Pole, the only way to see your own reflection was to bend over a freezing pool or a dangerous patch of black ice, balancing precariously on the edge and squinting until maybe you could tell if your plait was askew. Now, however, she could see everything: the slightly ragged ends of the newly-cut hair that brushed her cheeks, the startling blue of her eyes, the slender curve of her brown neck… To her shame, because all good Water Tribe girls knew that vanity was a sin, she found she was entranced by her own appearance.

Eventually, however, her eyes travelled down to her clothing, so strange and new, especially when lit from behind by soft lamplight. Shadows pooled in the folds of her new red dress and towards the front of her face; the spaces beneath her brows were thrown into such deep shadow that she might as well have smeared charcoal over her eyelids. The effect was terrifying and beautiful to her: she looked sinister and lovely, and she was not sure she liked it. After all, she was only twelve.

_You're still the same, _said a voice inside her head. _You're still Katara. You'll never be Rei._

Ailin had given her some new red robes. They were made for children, but Katara felt nothing like a child as she raised her hands to touch her face and the red fabric slid smoothly down her arms, almost liquid in its texture.

It felt as though she were bathed in blood. Everything was red; even her shoes were red, even the pins that pulled the top section of her hair back, revealing a wide forehead. She felt sick wearing Fire Nation clothes – as though she was a traitor to her own country.

_Don't be stupid,_ she told herself. _It's not as though wearing their clothes makes you Fire Nation. You're only pretending, and only for a little while, too._

"Well," said Ailin. "Don't you two look the picture."

For the first time since she had seen herself in the mirror, Katara remembered her brother's presence. She could see his reflection behind her: he did not look nearly as spooked as she did. In fact, he was quite enjoying watching himself – she smiled as he clenched his fist and a muscle bulged in his arm, followed by a grin that swelled even more across his face. There was no need to ask him how he felt about his clothing; he looked good in it, and – typical Sokka – he knew it.

"I _do_ look like a picture," he said. "A very _handsome _picture. How about you, Katara?"

Shaking her head, Katara replied, "I don't mind it… but I'm not all that wild about it either."

"Aw, come _on_! You never had clothes like this back at – before, did you? Lighten up! Looking like this, we can walk through a Fire Nation town without being discovered – doesn't that appeal to you just a tiny, little, _practically invisible _bit?"

"Not really." Katara raised an eyebrow.

"Then how about this." He lowered his voice. "We could maybe do a little…" Sokka leant closer to Katara and whispered in her ear, "_spying_… while we're here. How does _that _sound?"

"I heard that," said Ailin sourly from behind them, but to her surprise she found Sokka's comment amusing rather than insulting. He was just a boy, bless him – and she knew what boys of his age were like. "And I'm warning you, if you even so much as _try _to spy on my country –"

"It's our country too, remember," interrupted Sokka. His comment stopped Ailin in her tracks for a few seconds. "I mean – we're pretending it is. For now."

"Well," she said. "I suppose it is and all."

With some difficulty due to her leg, Katara turned away from her reflection and clutched at her mother's necklace; it was only just hidden beneath her high collar. _I am still Water Tribe._

"Tomorrow," continued Ailin, "You join Fire Nation society."

* * *

Deep in the night, Sokka was finally left to his own thoughts. Their lessons had been exhausting, and he had barely had any time at all in which to plan a way to return to the South; now, he finally found that a solid plan was forming in his tired mind.

Tomorrow, they would join Fire Nation society. Sokka was not scared – how hard could fooling Fire Nation citizens be? As far as he could tell, propaganda had managed to fool all of them already, and he was cleverer than propaganda.

No, Sokka was excited. He was looking forward to seeing a little of Fire Nation culture – before leaving it. Hopefully tomorrow.

The marketplace was sure to be crowded. Once they were there, it would be easy to slip away from Ailin for long enough to charter a boat, or steal one if it was necessary, and then they would be away.

* * *

A/N: Well. Firstly: I'm sorry for the long absence.

And secondly, two things to ask:

- The difference probably wasn't all that much, but I used a different style of writing in this chapter from the others. Does it work?

- Please tell me whether this story is… _working_. Lately I've been thinking it's a little _too _off-canon. Is the whole premise a bit too... crazy?

And one thing to say:

Wow, I just realised I screwed up Katara and Sokka's past timelines majorly. Hakoda left _after _the Southern Raid (new episodes! Eee!), and searched for a master for Katara because she'd discovered her bending by then, and _then _he left. Sorry, but I'm sticking with the version of events in this story – it is an AU, after all. I just feel really stupid.

Thanks for reading!


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